Jack Scott's random ramblings

Imagine the absurdity of two openly gay, married, middle aged, middle class men escaping the liberal sanctuary of anonymous London to relocate to a Muslim country. I chronicled our exploits with the mad, the sad, the bad and the glad in a blog for the whole world to ignore. Then came the book which became a critically acclaimed best seller. Its success opened out a whole new career for me, firstly as an author, and now as a publisher. Who'd have thought it? Certainly not me.
In June 2012, we ended our Anatolian affair and paddled back to Britain on the evening tide, washing up in Norwich, a surprising city in eastern England. I’m sometimes nostalgic for our encounters with the hopeless, the hapless and, yes, the happy go lucky. They gave me an unexpected tale to tell and for this I thank them. Act Two, Turkey Street, is out now in print and digital editions.

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Tag: Charity

I really ought to stay in more. Every time I stroll through the streets of Norwich, I trip over yet another big butch simian in glorious Technicolor. There’s a Guy hanging around on every corner. To make matters worse, I recently started to notice smaller window display versions in shops. All in all, there are probably more silverbacks in Norwich than in Rwanda (well, maybe not but you get my drift). So here are a few Gorillas I missed in my earlier post. The last ape in the montage looks enigmatically over at the Out of Africa store opposite which feels kinda appropriate. I was also rather taken with the little guy dragged up for Norwich Pride with a rainbow flag sticking out of the top of his head. So, my friends, give it up for Gay the Gorilla and his mates with their coats of many colours.

Like this:

We got back from holiday to face an invasion of psychedelic gorillas. I thought someone had slipped some acid in my gin and I was tripping the light fantastic. Don’t fret, I haven’t taken to class A drugs and mugging old Norfolk broads to feed a nasty habit. Not yet anyway.

Looking like the camp cast of ‘Planet of the Apes, the Panto,’ these unique and rather fabulous specimens of street art form the 53-strong gorilla trail around the city organised by the ‘Go Go Gorilla’ campaign. According to their website the trail will…

“… take place for 10 weeks during the summer of 2013 and will encourage thousands of people to discover and re-discover the city of Norwich, provide community and education projects and highlight environmental issues and the plight of one of the world’s most endangered species.”

At the end of the exhibition, the multi-coloured silverbacks will be auctioned off for charity. Bid early to avoid disappointment. Remember, a Guy’s for life, not just for Christmas (so says Liam). It certainly knocks spots off a naff garden gnome, not to mention the pushy teenagers in the street gripping clip boards to extract direct debits for the World Wildlife Fund.

Here’s a small selection:

The Go Go Gorilla campaign got into a bit of hot water with the Freddie Mercury estate when one of the exhibits aped the late great Queen showman in his cloney stage clobber. Breach of copyright, apparently. It was removed from the forecourt of the Forum – to be repainted. Boo, hiss. Unlike the stuffy suits running his estate, I’m reliably informed that Mr Mercury had a wicked sense of humour and a charitable bent.

I rather hoped that Freddie the Gorilla would be resurrected in full drag as a tribute to the ‘I Want to Break Free’ video. Sadly, it was not to be. Freddie was reinstated today, sprayed black and minus his tash, crop top and signature buck teeth. So now it’s just any old primate in a Queen jacket. Still, all the fuss gave the campaign a bit of a boost and got them on the BBC.

Here’s my personal favourite, a mean-looking bugger with a strangely benign face. He’s less adorned than the others with just a light dusting of glitter sparkling away in the sun. Clearly, this Guy is not afraid of his feminine side. Or perhaps Guy’s really a Gal?

Like this:

It’s Red Nose Day and up and down the realm, normally sane citizens are indulging in a collective act of extreme silliness for Comic Relief, raising a bit of dosh for those in need both at home and away. Catch the nonsense on BBC1 tonight starting at 7pm (Brit time). Despite the distressing economic climate, people continue to be generous with their time and their cash. My old friend, David Harries, is doing something funny for money and needs a little support. Give him a helping hand and I guarantee you’ll feel all warm inside.

Like this:

The last public holiday before Christmas brought the crowds to the banks of the Wensum to cheer on the Grand Norwich Duck Race. It was a bit of a plucky ducky frolic for charity and, as far as we could make out, it’s a friendly rival to the much grander Great Norwich Duck Race held in July. A £2 raffle ticket bought us a bright plastic contender and the chance to pick up a prize. The Sheriff of Norwich loudly heralded the release of the ducks which were chomping at the bit behind a mini-boom. I thought sheriffs were employed to chase outlaws around the Wild West and Sherwood Forest, but I digress. The gentle Wensum would hardly qualify as a white water ride so most of the rubber ducks floated lamely downstream while others became trapped in the dripping summer foliage. Neither Daffy, Donald or Daisy nor Huey, Dewey or Louis seemed much bothered by all the fuss as they huddled together for comfort. The daft occasion was fun for all the family and totally quackers. Later the same evening Liam gazed out of the window and, quite by chance, spotted three dragged-up men hobbling down the street in high heels, shock frocks and wild wigs. This is Norwich, city of the tacky, wacky and the wonderful.

The images were taken with my new smart-arse smart phone so they’re not very good (more of the smarty pants later), but you’ll get the drift.